Car Conversations
by akaJB
Summary: Spoilers for Fallen Kingdom. Thoughts about conversations that might arise in the car, at the end of the film. Another random piece - still not much of a (any) plot.
1. Chapter 1

"There's a baby triceratops." Claire's voice interrupts the silence that had settled over the car.

"Hmm?" Owen gives a quick sideways glance in her direction, before his gaze does a quick check on Maisie in the rear view mirror before returning to the road out front.

"There's a baby triceratops." Claire repeats herself, before following up with: "There shouldn't *be* a baby triceratops."

"Why not?" Maisie's voice comes from the backseat, the girl sitting up and looking interested and alert.

"All the dinosaurs at Jurassic World were female. And after the breeding disaster during Jurassic Park, a lot more research and effort went in to make sure it couldn't happen again." Claire turned her head, looking between Owen and Maisie. "A *lot* of money was spent on this. Part of the failure of Jurassic Park (and subsequent failures) can be directly tied to the fact the animals were able to breed. We didn't want that to happen again."

"Then where did the baby triceratops come from?" Maisie asked.

Owen and Claire looked at each other. Where indeed. It was Owen who spoke first. "Well, as Ian Malcolm has always said, 'Life finds a way'."

"No," Claire shook her head. "Seriously, I was involved in the discussions and research and work that went into this. There's no way the triceratops just started breeding on their own."

"You do know that means there's only one other option, right?" Owen raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at Claire again. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I know," Claire gave a loud sigh, slumping back into her seat. "I wish I wasn't sure, but I am. You know what this means, right?"

"What *what* means?" Maisie leaned forward, she didn't know what they were talking about.

"It means someone has been breeding more dinosaurs, and not just in your basement," Claire breathed out with a wince.

"And things are going to get a whole lot worse," Owen added, with a shake of his head. "He's so fu-," he cuts himself off, a quick look back at a Maisie, before starting again and going simply with, "He's crazy."

"Who?"

"Dr. Wu." Claire and Owen replied in sync.

Silence settled over the car again.

After a quick stop at a gas station for gas, snacks and the use of a bathroom, the three continued on, Maisie happily munching her way through a bag of Twizzlers, her gaze focused out her window, watching the scenery fly by, forehead crinkling in deep thought.

"So I'm a clone." It comes out as both a statement and a question. And Claire and Owen's eyes meet quickly, both not looking forward to this conversation.

"Um, yeah, well..." Claire trails off. She gathers her thoughts before continuing, "We only know what Eli said. I'm not sure we should trust him."

"I saw a picture of my mom," Maisie whispered. "Or who I thought was my mom. I look just like her."

"That doesn't mean you're a clone," Owen shook his head, wishing he could face the girl for this conversation. But also knowing that it might be easier this way.

"Besides," Claire added lightly, trying to relieve some of the tension that was settling over the car, and the worry that was crossing Maisie's face. "A clone is really just like an identical twin." Seeing the disbelief cross Maisie's face, she added. "If it's true, and we don't know that it is, it doesn't make you someone else. It doesn't make you *less you*."

Maisie just turned her gaze back out her window, chewing absentmindedly on the Twizzler she was still grasping in her hand.

Owen reached his arm back between the front seats, and was able to lightly grasp Maisie's knee. He gave it a quick squeeze. "Don't worry about it kiddo. Clone or not, we're not leaving you. And everyone's going to have some much *bigger* problems to worry about."

There's a short moment of silence in the car, before Claire snorts, trying to hide her laughter. Owen let's go of Maisie's knee, pulling his hand back to the steering wheel, while giving Claire a confused glance. "What?"

Claire tries to answer, but instead a large peel of laughter escapes. Her hand goes to her chest, as she tries to calm herself down. "It's just..." another burst interrupts her. "Bigger..." She laughs again. She takes a deep breath, trying desperately to get a hold of herself, and manages to say "like T-Rex sized," before she dissolves back into her laughter.

Owen has always found her laughter contagious, and before he knows it, he's laughing along side her. He takes a quick glance in the rear-view mirror again, to check on Maisie. He's happy to note that she's fighting a smile and laughter of her own.

Maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay, he thinks. He reaches across the center console, and threads his fingers through Claire's, squeezing lightly, everyone still laughing lightly.

Claire gives him a quick glance, before squeezing his hand back. There may be a lot of unknowns ahead of them, but at least they're going to face it together.


	2. Fool me once

I've been trying to think through/plan out a bigger story, and this was inspired by a thought I'd had as I work through my ideas. Decided to add a chapter here, as I still don't know if my bigger idea will turn into anything.

I want to add that I really like Claire's character. But I also think there are things that they did in both movies that drove me nuts, as it felt like as much as they were building her up as this great positive role model, they added in these moments where they tore everything down and treated her the same way many women in male-dominated fields would recognize. I think Claire would be beating herself up a lot over what happened in both JW and JW:FK. And I really hope that don't make JW3 another one she can add to her list.

* * *

"Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice..."

"Hmm?" Owen glanced over at Claire, who was leaning against the door, staring absently out the window into the darkening sky. Behind them, Maisie had fallen asleep, curled up across the back row of seats, one of Owen's sweatshirts draped over her like a blanket, another bunched under her head as a pillow. When Claire didn't say anything, he spoke again, "What was that?"

"Oh..." Claire hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud, lost in her thoughts. She turned her head slightly to look at Owen, before adding, "It's nothing. Not really." Her gaze moved back out the window.

Owen drummed his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. He never knew what to do in these situations - push harder and try to get her to open up, or leave her alone with her thoughts. He'd tried both tactics before, and neither had fared well. Before he could make up his mind on a plan of action, Claire gave a heavy sigh, deciding for him.

"What's up?" He turned his gaze towards her, just in time to see her bury her face in her hands.

"I'm _so_ stupid," she ground out, the words barely reaching his ears. "So, so, stupid."

Raising his eyebrows and with a quick chuckle, Owen replied, "You? I don't think anyone would ever use the word 'stupid' to describe you. Tenacious, probably. Confident, sure. Bossy, likely. Smart, intelligent, high maintenance, absolutely. But stupid? Nope, I don't see it."

"But I _am_ ," Claire managed to pull her head from her hands, and he was shocked to see evidence of tears. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her cry - and two of those were at the funeral for Simon Masrani and memorial for Zara Young. Tears and Claire were not a common mix. "Twice. I got taken by him twice. I wanted so much for it..." she trailed off, burying her face back in her hands. This time, Owen could see the subtle shake of her shoulders, indicating the presence of more tears.

"Wait, taken by who?" Owen wasn't following the conversation. Claire shook her head, shoulders shaking a bit harder.

Owen looked around frantically, Maisie was still asleep in the back, and they were rapidly losing light, as the sun was hanging low in the sky. The road they were on had shoulders, but not enough to be really safely out of the way of any traffic (not that he'd seen any recently). His fingers bounced faster against the steering wheel, mind racing as he tried to decide what to do.

"Okay, um.. Just..." he sped up the car a bit, hoping a solution would jump out at him. "Claire..." he sighed softly, letting one hand leave the wheel to rest lightly on the nape of her neck, fingers massaging gently.

But he'd barely rested his hand there before he felt her pull away, dislodging his hand in the process, as she squirmed towards the door. "Don't," she shook her head, "I don't deserve it. This is all my fault."

"You're fault?!" Okay, he was definitely missing something. His eyes darted back and forth across the road, desperately searching out space to pull over, hands clenching the steering wheel tightly. Finally, there was a slightly wider stretch of shoulder, and he quickly eased the car off the road, throwing it in park.

Before Claire had a chance to say anything, he was out of his seat and around the car, pulling her door open, falling down onto his knees to face her. He reached out, grasping her hands lightly, tugging them away from her face, trying to get her to meet his gaze.

"Claire, I'm lost here. I don't see how any of this is your fault. You're one of the smartest people I know. I'd say smartest, but, well, there's Grey..." he trailed off, expecting to see a hint of a smile, but there was no reaction.

"Don't you see?" Claire finally turned her gaze to his, eyes locking. "Both times! Both times, you can trace it all back to me being... being gullible, or obsessed with money or image, or, or... or just trying to prove myself and ignoring the warning signs." She shook her head, pulling one of her hands from his, brushing angrily at the tears still sliding down her cheeks, her gaze wandering back over his shoulder, staring at nothing in particular. "If I hadn't gone for 'bigger, scarier, more _teeth_ ,' we would still be back at Jurassic World. You'd still have all _four_ of your girls. If I hadn't trusted Mills and Lockwood..." She trailed off there.

"If you hadn't trusted Mills, Blue would be dead. _All_ of the dinosaurs would be dead. And the Indominus? Nothing is as simple as one person. You know that. You taught _me_ that," he raised his free hand to her chin, gently drawing her gaze back to his. "'All big failures can be traced back to a series of cascading errors', remember telling me that?"

The smallest of smiles started pulling at her lips. "I never thought you were paying attention."

"Claire, I'm _always_ paying attention when you talk," Owen gave her a slight grin in return. "I may not always be _listening_ ," he admitted, "but I'm always paying attention."

At last, she gave a slight chuckle, before the hint of a smile fell away, as she sighed, "It's still my fault."

"It's not," Owen stated firmly. "I know you don't believe me, yet, but it's not. And while I'd love to take the time to convince you right now, we've got Maisie in the back, we still need to find a first aid kit for your leg, and we're about to lose the last of the light and I _really_ don't want to be out here in the dark with all the dinosaurs on the loose." He moved to stand up, before pausing and reaching into the car, wrapping his arms around Claire and pulling her towards him in a hug, whispering in her ear as he did, "I'm on your side. Please don't forget that."

He felt her head nod slightly in response against his chest, while her arms wrapped around him, squeezing back tightly. "I'm really glad you're here," she whispered back.

"There's no where else I'd rather be," he told her with a quick smile, before pulling back and standing up.

He circled back around the car, climbing in and pulling on his seat belt. As he pulled the car back out onto the road he continued, "We're not going to solve or fix everything today. But that doesn't mean we won't. That DGP you started."

Claire cut him off, correcting: "DPG. Dinosaur Protection Group."

"Right, that. That's going to be more important than ever now. They're going to need _you_ more than ever before."


	3. Like Goldilocks

Okay, this chapter kind of got away from me, and wasn't at all what I thought I was going to write when I started. But, oh well? There's really not been much of a plot in this yet, and to be honest, I'm not sure if there will be. Depends on if inspiration strikes again, and if so, with what. :) If you've got any ideas, pass them along.

* * *

It was approaching 8 pm when Claire directed Owen through San Francisco to her apartment. She hadn't moved to the city with DPG until after she and Owen had... broken up? Parted ways? Both left each other and were left _by_ the other? Well, whatever happened, it meant that Owen hadn't been to her place in the city yet.

Earlier, when they'd stopped for dinner at a McDonald's (Maisie's request), Owen had suggested they head to his cabin. Claire had shook her head, reminding him that it wasn't finished yet, and it would be super squishy fitting the three of them in his trailer. Besides, as he'd pointed out earlier, DPG was going to be important going forward, and she needed to be there to lead.

While Owen wasn't excited about being in the middle of the city, he'd agreed with her reasoning (for now), while watching Maisie scarf down her fries and drink, but wrinkle her nose as she bit into her burger before pushing it aside. He'd chuckled to himself, having already watched Claire uncomfortably trying to pick something to order, while he didn't hesitate on his two Angus burgers and fries. It wasn't his first choice for a meal, but he wasn't picky after not having had much to eat the past 48 hours. Besides, with the state of their clothing, they couldn't afford to be to picky - they needed something with a drive thru so they wouldn't have to get out.

Soon they were circling a few blocks, looking for some on street parking near her building. Claire didn't have her keys (and, to be honest, she wasn't sure where any of her stuff had ended up), so they couldn't get into the parkade under the building. Thankfully though, the building had a doorman, and she knew they'd let her in.

On their third circle of the block, they managed to catch a car pulling away from the curb, and grab the spot, Owen comfortably maneuvering the car on the steep incline. Claire was thankful it wasn't her driving.

The moment the car was in park and the engine was switched off, Claire was moving - unbuckling her seatbelt and pushing her door open. It wasn't until she was standing on the sidewalk about to shut her door that she realized there had been no other movement from within the car.

She bent down to peer back inside, one hand resting on the top of the car, the other on the door she'd been about to close. Owen was sitting stock-still, one hand still on the steering wheel, the other around the keys that were still in the ignition. A quick glance into the back showed that Maisie was still asleep, explaining her lack of movement.

"Owen?" Claire said his name softly. He didn't move. She repeated it, louder this time, and he slowly shifted his gaze towards her, eyes flickering between shock and sheer exhaustion. "Hey, can you help me with Maisie?" She nodded towards the backseat, and that seemed to startle him out of his stupor, as his gaze followed hers. "She'll be more comfortable on a bed."

Owen nodded his agreement, before finally moving to unbuckle himself and open his door. Once she was sure he was moving, Claire carefully shut her own before opening the backdoor beside Maisie. As she was reaching out her hand to gently shake Maisie's shoulder and wake her up, Owen lightly grasped her arm.

"Don't," he shook his head. "I've got her." And he reached into the car, carefully pulling Maisie out, gathering her in his arms.

Claire grabbed the car keys from him, shutting the door and making sure it was all locked before leading him to the front door.

"Good evening Ms. Dearing," the doorman greeted her, pulling the door open and standing aside. His gaze traveled over the three of them, and she knew it was a testament to his training that he didn't blink and his expression never changed.

"Hi George," Claire gave him a real smile, happy to see him, by far the most normal part of her last 48 hours. "It's been... It's been a weird day and you're going to hear all about it tomorrow. But, for now, I'm hoping you can let me into my place - I've misplaced my keys."

"Absolutely Ms. Dearing," George nodded, closing the door behind Owen before leading them towards the elevator, already pulling out his key ring and flipping through them looking for hers. "Do you need a new key?"

"No," Claire shook her head as they stepped into the elevator, hitting the button for the 8th floor automatically. "I've got a spare in my place."

A few minutes later, she waved good-bye to George, shutting the door behind her, and turning around to see Owen standing still just a couple of feet away, Maisie still sleeping in his arms.

She slipped out of her shoes and watched as Owen copied her, toeing off his own, before she led him through the small living area towards a door that was mostly closed.

"I don't have a guest room, and well, San Francisco's pricey, so I don't really have a lot of space," she winced as she looked around her crowded space, DPG paraphernalia scattered about. A few years ago she would've been aghast at the thought of living like this. But, as it was, she couldn't justify a bigger space, what with being on her own and running a non-profit. She was already paying extra because she'd liked the idea and security of having a doorman. She pushed open the door, switching on the light to the bedroom. It was the least crowded part of the apartment, boasting a queen size bed, dresser, closet and a couple of nightstands. She was a big believer in the rule that bedrooms are for sleeping and _not_ working, and so she kept hers clutter free.

Walking around the bed, she pulled down the covers, before gesturing to Owen to lay Maisie down. He did, and they carefully pulled off Maisie's shoes before Owen pulled the covers over her, tucking her in. Maisie turned on her side almost immediately, burrowing deeper into the covers, a small sigh escaping her lips. Owen and Claire exchanged smiles, gazes caught on each other.

Claire pulled away first, moving business like towards her dresser and closet, poking around in both, pulling out a few items. "C'mon," she waved him back out to the main area, turning the light off and closing the door behind them as they left, leaving it open just a crack.

Back in the living room area, Claire turned to Owen, handing him a couple of clothing items. "I'm dying for a shower, and betting you want one too." She blushed slightly, looking away from him before continuing, gesturing at the clothes in his hands. "I, ah, I have a pair of your sweats and a t-shirt."

Peeking up, she saw Owen finally glance down at what was in his hands, separating the two items. "Oh," a small chuckle crossed his lips, "I thought I'd lost this shirt." He glanced over at her. "Should've known that you'd steal it."

"I didn't _steal_ it," Claire denied, eyes immediately searching his out.

"What do you call taking something that's not yours?" Owen gave her an amused smile.

"I didn't," Claire huffed, looking away for a second, arms on her hips. "It was in my things. I just... I hadn't got around to getting rid of it yet."

For a second Owen looked a little offended, before his smile grew brighter. "You can admit it, it's only the two of us here. You'd never do that; I bet you've been wearing them! You always did love my clothes."

Claire's mouth opened to reply, before snapping shut. She waved her hand towards a second door off to the side, "the bathroom's over there. There's clean towels under the sink."

"You can go first," Owen immediately backed up, it was _her_ place after all.

"No, you go ahead," Claire shook her head. "Now that I've got access to my email, I need to check up on a few things." Before he had a chance to say anything else, she'd headed over to a small desk below a window, where a MacBook was sitting closed on a pile of paperwork.

Shaking his head, Owen decided it wasn't worth arguing about, and headed into the bathroom. A shower did sound like a great idea.

* * *

Owen was in the process of yanking down his t-shirt and pulling open the bathroom door, after spending longer than he'd like to admit in the shower, when he heard a small voice cry out. He quickly moved back into the living area, towards the bedroom, almost colliding with Claire at the door.

She stepped back, letting him lead the way into the room towards Maisie, as she flipped the lights on behind him. She was surprised to not immediately see Maisie, expecting her to be sitting up in bed. But soon enough, she realized that Owen was sitting himself down next to a trembling bundle under the covers.

"Hey Maisie," Owen let his hand rest solidly on the comforter over her small frame. He knew, from past experience, that the solid pressure of his hand on her back was a good way to ground her back in the present. He waited a few seconds for her trembling to soften, before speaking again. "Hey, do you think you can come out?"

The covers moved again, but this time it wasn't the shaking from fear, but a more definite head shaking "no."

"Okay, that's fine," Owen gave a quick rub with his hand, before letting it rest in the same place. He glanced back to see where Claire was, finding her just inside the bedroom door, looking completely unsure as to what she should be doing. Even after reconnecting with her nephews, he knew that she still felt uncomfortable around kids, never sure how to act.

Catching her eye, he whispered, "She was hiding in her bed from the indoraptor when I found her."

Claire's mouth opened in a wide 'oh', before falling shut, not actually sure how to respond to that. Somehow she looked even more uncomfortable than before.

Internally grinning to himself, but making sure he didn't let Claire see any hint herself, he used his other hand to wave her back towards the door. "Can you grab us a glass of water?" He didn't miss her relieved look as she practically bolted out of the room, happy to have a task.

He turned back to the lump under the covers. "Come on Maisie, let's get you out from under there." He pulled gently at the covers, not surprised to find immediate resistance as the young girl held desperately to them. "It's just me and Claire here Mais, you're safe." He gave another light tug, this time finding less resistance, and was able to pull them down just enough for her eyes to peer up at him. "Hey," he gave her a soft smile. "How're you doing in there?"

"Where am I?" Maisie's eyes darted around the room, before settling back on him.

"We're at Claire's place," Owen said. "She's just gone to get a glass of water."

"Got it," Claire's voice interrupted him, as she stepped into the room. She held out the glass to Owen, eyes darting down to catch Maisie's. "How're you doing?"

"Okay," Maisie replied, finally lowering the covers a bit more, so her entire head was visible. She then slowly sat up, taking the glass Owen was now holding out for her.

As the covers fell down towards her waist, Owen was reminded that while he'd showered and changed, Maisie was still wearing her outfit from earlier, and probably wasn't feeling quite so comfortable. "You know, I be Claire's got something you can change into."

"Oh. Yes!" Claire quickly darted towards her dresser, pulling open a drawer. Owen almost missed the hesitant look she shot him, as she tentatively reached in, before pulling her hand back.

"What?"

Claire blushed, before reaching in more assertively and pulling out a shirt he immediately recognized as another of his own.

"Just how many of my shirts did you steal?!"

"I didn't steal any!" Claire hotly denied. "This one's mine."

Owen took a closer look at the shirt she was holding as she approached. He realized now it was a dark blue Navy shirt that Claire had taken an instant liking too when they were together. Once she'd found it, he'd never had a chance to wear it again, and so he'd started jokingly calling it hers. It had never ended up mixed in his clothes after that, always finding a home in her drawers. He was going to make another comment about it, but really, he was more pleased than anything to realize she'd kept some of his stuff.

"I thought you'd grab some of your own clothes?" he gestured towards Maisie. "That's going to be _huge_ on her."

"That's the point," Claire rolled her eyes at him. "My clothes will just be awkwardly sized, but this," she held the shirt up in front of Maisie, "will be more like a night gown." She winked at Maisie, before looking over at Owen. "You're gigantic." To her relief, Maisie let out a chuckle at that, reaching out for the t-shirt, which she happily passed over.

"Hey!" Owen had grasped his hands over his heart in a mock offended pose. "I'll have you know that I'm the perfect size. Like Goldilocks."

"That doesn't make any sense," Claire said, grabbing his arm to pull him up from the bed. "It wasn't about Goldilocks size, it was the chair and porridge and bed that were 'just right.'" She looked over at Maisie, who was giggling now. "We'll be just outside the door while you get changed, okay?"

Maisie nodded, watching with wide eyes as the two left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, bickering as they went. While she spent all her time around adults, they were her grandfather, Iris, and Mills, and none of them ever acted remotely like these two. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

* * *

Out in the living area, Claire had dropped her hand from Owen's arm the moment they left the room, taking a couple of steps away from him unconsciously. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable around him, not really. It was more she wasn't quite sure how to act around him, now that they seemingly were being thrown into a position of taking care of a child, while also having to deal with the fall out dinosaurs roaming freely around California. It was a lot to deal with all at once.

"I don't know why you get so worried," Owen spoke up.

"What do you mean?"

"Maisie. Kids. You," Owen looked between the door and Claire. "You're so much better at this than you think you are."

"I-" Claire was cut off by the door opening behind them. Maisie was standing there wearing Claire's (well Owen's) shirt, her left shoulder escaping through the neck hole, and the shirt hanging well below her knees. "Perfect fit," Claire ended up saying instead and giving Maisie a big smile, who smiled back.

Owen clapped his hands together in front of him, bringing their attention to him. "Well Mais, what do you feel like? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired?" He then bent down as if to whisper to her, although it was clearly loud enough for Claire to hear. "Although, I got to be honest, I don't know what the food situation will be like. Claire's got some... interesting tastes."

Maisie giggled at that, while shaking her head, "Not hungry."

"Yeah," Owen gave her a nod. "I think what we could all probably benefit from is good nights sleep."

"I'm not tired," Maisie insisted, but it was quickly interrupted by a yawn.

"Right," Owen gave her a wink. "Now, I'd suggest we put on a movie, but Claire here," he looked over at her, "doesn't believe in TV in the bedroom."

"There's a lot of research-" Claire started, before Owen cut her off.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I've heard it all before."

"I don't watch TV," Maisie's comment had Owen swinging his head wildly in her direction. "Well, I mean, grandfather and Iris didn't let me." She smile started to drop.

Owen moved forward, directing Maisie back into the bedroom, hand resting on her shoulder. "Tomorrow, you and me, cartoons."

"Could you tell me stories about Blue?" Maisie asked as they entered the bedroom.

"About Blue?" Owen looked surprised at the request.

"I saw some videos of you. With Blue when she was a baby. And some other baby raptors."

"I'd love to tell you about Blue," Owen smiled at her. "No one usually wants to hear me talk about her."

"That's because normally you won't shut up about her," Claire mumbled from the doorway, where she was leaning against the door frame. She watched as Maisie climbed back under the covers, pulling them up to her chin, while Owen climbed on to the bed beside her, sitting up leaning back against the headboard.

"Where should I start?" Owen mused, ignoring Claire's comment.

Claire pushed herself away from the door frame. "I'm going to go have a shower." But she wasn't even sure they had heard her, as Owen had already started in on his stories.

"Blue was one of four raptors. She had three siblings, Charlie, Delta, and Echo, but they were all hatched at separate times..."

* * *

Leaving the bathroom after her shower, Claire was surprised by how quiet the apartment was. She had been expecting to hear the soft sounds of Owen's voice coming from the bedroom. Instead, there was silence.

She peaked into the bedroom and wasn't all that surprised to see that Maisie had fallen back asleep, turned facing towards Owen. Owen had slipped down from his position, and was lying on his side facing her, his hand resting on her side, and also fast asleep.

She grabbed a blanket out of the closet and carefully spread it over him, before shutting the door and heading back to her laptop. She knew she should be tired, but instead, she was feeling energized as her mind was filled with tasks that needed to be done. People to call, emails to send, lists to be made. Everything she thrived on.


End file.
